


The Politicians' Daughters

by loonyloopyluna



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: ....sort of i mean it's mostly just fake friends to real friends to lovers, Bee Miraculous, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, eventually, we all know chloé has trust issues okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 12:02:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10696614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonyloopyluna/pseuds/loonyloopyluna
Summary: Chloé learned from her dad: act like you deserve respect, and you'll get it. There are a few shortcuts to gaining people's trust; use them wisely and they'll help when you need them. Everyone else is doing the same, so be careful. In the end, you're the most important.Lila learned from her mom: namedropping never hurt anyone. Connections are the most important things to create, and you can use every acquaintance to your advantage. Don't be afraid to stretch the truth; everyone else is doing it. Your public image is one of your most powerful tools.The two girls are more alike than they'd like to admit. This should be interesting...





	The Politicians' Daughters

Chloé wasn’t used to being caught off guard. But then Lila showed up.

Lila Rossi. She was perfect, wasn’t she? Rich, pretty, well-connected, friendly. She was new, she was fresh, and everyone immediately loved her. And she had set her sights squarely on Adrien from the first moment.

Chloé couldn’t stand for that. Adrien was  _ hers _ . Who did this interloper think she was, to come in out of nowhere and weasel her way in? Chloé had to let her know the way of things.

But Lila’s sheer…  _ perfection _ knocked her off track. She spent that first day seething in the background, red-faced and shaking, trying to collect her thoughts. Lila hung on Adrien like a coat, batting those perfect, almond eyes, twirling her perfect, soft hair around a perfect, manicured finger. Her brain was scattered, her thoughts were shattered, and Chloé waited out the school day until she could recuperate at home and devise a plan.

She spent an hour working on what to say, even going to far as to write a speech. She tried to memorize a few points.  _ Adrien was my friend first. He’s mine. Stay away. Know your place. Ladybug is my friend. You’ve probably never met her in your life, but I see her every week. _

She wanted to show up early, confront Lila at the door, but she had to show how completely unthreatened she was. Being too defensive, showing she was bothered--Lila would see the cracks and slip through and pry them apart until Chloé was left with nothing to stand on. Chloé knew the way Lila would think, because it’s how she would think, and for the first time, she had some actual competition. She might have been new, but she wasn’t naïve.

Lila had seemed like a shining sun the first time she walked into school, breezing through the crowds on a jasmine-scented sunbeam, shining like a Greek statue come to life. Today, though, her confidence had dimmed; she flickered on the edge of a crowd, engrossed in her phone. Her hair hung in front of her face, casual enough that it might’ve just been a result of having her head bowed, but strategic enough that it covered her face from prying eyes.

Chloé hesitated. It was the perfect opportunity, but part of her hated to kick Lila while she was down. It was too easy, and bordered on cruelty. Obviously something had already taken her down a peg or two.

She couldn’t leave room for sympathy, though. Chloé drew herself up straight and tall, and walked decisively over to Lila. She didn’t seem to notice; perhaps her curtain of hair served not just as a shield but as a wall to slice off anything in her peripheral vision. Chloé cleared her throat, and Lila looked up in surprise.

“Chloé.” It was a statement, perfectly neutral and balanced. Lila’s eyes were wary, but her mouth lit up in a charismatic smile.

“Lila,” she sniffed. “I noticed you talking to Adrien yesterday. And everyone saw your interview on the Ladyblog. If you think--”

“Oh, I don’t care,” Lila interrupted. “I’d be glad if I never saw that spotted snob again. And I’m not interested in Adrien anymore.”

“You’re… not?”

Lila shook her head. She crossed her legs and propped her wrists on them, letting her phone dangle in a loose grip. “But we didn’t really get a chance to talk yesterday, did we, Chloé?” she asked, giving Chloé a grin that showed perfect, even teeth.

Chloé blinked rapidly. She’d lost her footing, again, and while she struggled to reorient herself, Lila continued, “You seem like the kind of girl who’s in charge. And I feel like we’d be friends, you and I.”

“Yes, well,” Chloé said. Her mouth seemed to be operating on another plane, as her mind swam through molasses to keep up. “I  _ am _ in charge, when Marinette isn’t around to mess things up.”

“Marinette?” Lila asked.

“The, uh, short one. Black hair. Annoying. Trust me, you’ll figure out who she is,” Chloé replied.

“Hmm.” Lila tilted her head endearingly. “Well, I don’t know who she is, but she sounds unbearable.” She tilted her phone in her hand and looked down at the screen. “Oh, the bell’s about to ring. We’ll talk again at lunch?”

“I don't have your phone number,” Chloé said dumbly.

Lila twirled her phone around and offered the screen to Chloé. “Here. Call yourself.” Chloé did, and hung up when she felt her purse vibrate. “Now you've got my number,” Lila continued brightly, “and I've got yours.” She stood and smiled at Chloé, who frowned at her proximity but held her ground. “See you later.” Lila breezed past.

“Yeah,” Chloé murmured, staring at the now-vacant bench as if it could hold some answers about the girl it had just held.

* * *

“I don't know, Sabrina,” Chloé whispered. They were between classes in the locker room, standing closely together despite the relatively few people around. “I don't trust her. She's too… nice.”

Sabrina shifted her weight uncomfortably. “What?” Chloé asked.

“Well, it’s just--I’m going to say something, Chloé, and I don’t want you to get mad, but… not everyone is like you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, maybe she’s actually trying to be nice. You know, make friends?” Sabrina offered.

Chloé snorted. “Please. I know she hasn’t been here long, but anyone could tell you I’m hardly the welcome committee. I decide whether I want to be friends with someone, not the other way around, and she’s definitely playing at something. I mean, she made a point to tell me that she’s not friends with Ladybug anymore, like I’m supposed to be flattered that she chose me over her? But I’d have to be an idiot to buy that for even a second.”

Sabrina paused for a moment. “Did you read Alya’s--er, the Ladyblog yesterday?”

“Of course. I have notifications on my phone,” Chloé scoffed. “There was a post last night--Vulpine, or something--but Ladybug didn’t stop by to see me this time, so don’t you  _ dare _ try to tell me this one was my fault, too.”

Sabrina winced. “No, of course not,” she protested. “It’s just… I think Volpina was Lila.”

“ Oh _ , really? _ ” Chloé asked, sprouting a wicked grin. She patted her pockets, then realized Sabrina was still holding her purse. “Give me my phone,” she commanded.

Sabrina complied, saying, “Come on, Chloé. She seems nice.”

“She seems like a liar,” Chloé retorted. “She really must think I'm an idiot if I was supposed to just fall for her act and trust her.” She tapped through her phone for a few more minutes, then handed it back to Sabrina, satisfied.

“Come on,” she said, walking off, “I don't want Lila taking my seat in chemistry.”

* * *

That night, however, her father surprised her at dinner with an announcement.

“The Italian ambassador is bringing her family to the dinner next week,” he said brightly. “I hear one of her daughters is about your age. Maybe you can make friends…?”

Chloé smiled. “Of course, daddy. Are we to meet them before the event?”

“No, I don't think so. But they have just moved here, so they'll definitely be out of sorts. It'll be our job as the hosts to, erm, guide them around.”

“‘Just moved here?’” Chloé repeated. “What about--?”

“Retired,” her father interrupted, shaking his head. “This one’s new. I thought I said that? That's the whole reason we're having this dinner, Chloé, to celebrate Darice Rossi’s appointment.”

Chloé's mouth fell open, spilling her food gracelessly back out into her plate. “Rossi?”

“Yes, that's what I said,” her father replied. “Why?”

She recovered herself enough to pat her face with her napkin and smile, sugary sweetness hiding a razor’s edge. “You're right, daddy. She does have a daughter my age--in fact, she's in my class.”

He clapped. “Oh, that's excellent! Am I right in thinking you two would be great friends? From what I hear, she sounds so much like you.”

“I don’t know,” she said, shrugging innocently. “We haven’t really talked.”

“Make sure you make her feel welcome,” he said. “Remember, you want to get on their good side, and get in there early.”

“Of course, daddy. I’ll invite her over this weekend.”

**Author's Note:**

> I used to have a nasty of habit of posting half-finished things and then never finishing them, so I told myself that I would only post completed stuff. the result of that has been a bunch of piecemeal wips that never get completed at all tho, so let's try that first one again and maybe some of that External Motivation (tm) will actually make me get stuff done lol.


End file.
